


He Doesn't Look A Thing Like Jesus

by meiloslyther



Category: Bandom, Panic! at the Disco, The Young Veins
Genre: Fluff, M/M, h/c
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-02-17
Updated: 2010-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-19 10:39:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/572366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meiloslyther/pseuds/meiloslyther
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jon's wisdom teeth are coming in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	He Doesn't Look A Thing Like Jesus

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by my hydrocodone induced nausea and the ensuing urge to cuddle with someone. Don't mind me, I'm just insane and I take too many ~~legal~~ drugs.

Jon brought his hand up to cup his jaw for the third time in an hour, gently, like he was in pain.

"Dude, are you okay?" Brendon asked finally, watching Jon wince as he poked at his cheek.

"Yeah, I'm fine, it's just my jaw... it feels like I'm growing new teeth or something."

"Wisdom teeth, maybe?" Spencer offered, momentarily looking away from the TV screen.

"Ooh, I wanna see!" Brendon exclaimed, pouncing on Jon and attempting to pry his mouth open.

"Brendon, no, stay away from my mouth, monkey boy," Jon ordered, slapping Brendon's hands away and easily fending him off. Brendon pouted at him, so Jon let him curl up in his lap instead. "I don't know, probably," he answered Spencer then, gingerly touching his chin. "It hurts down to the bone and I haven't had an x-ray in a few years. I'll have to get to the dentist when I get home."

No one said anything else about it for the next couple of hours, even through Jon asking for something to chew on and Brendon handing him a piece of gum.

Eventually, Brendon and then Spencer turned in for the night, leaving Ryan and Jon in front of the TV. Jon's gum had lost its flavor about an hour ago, and it wasn't really helping anymore anyway.

"This is only going to get worse," Jon muttered ominously as he finally headed toward the bunks.

Sure enough, when Ryan pulled back the curtain to Jon's bunk the next day and woke him up, the first thing the elder did was groan in pain and clutch his jaw.

"Mother fucker," Jon muttered, crawling out of his bunk.

"Maybe you should take something," Ryan offered quietly, putting a comforting hand on Jon's shoulder. "I think we have some Aleve or whatever."

"Sounds awesome," Jon replied, trudging to the bathroom and rummaging around for the Aleve. Or something.

"I'll get you some water," Ryan called as he passed through to the kitchen.

Jon finally found the little blue bottle and tapped two of the powder blue pills out onto his hand. Ryan returned quickly with a water bottle and Jon immediately popped both pills in his mouth and chased it with nearly half of the bottle.

"Feel better, dude," Ryan sympathized, giving Jon's shoulder a squeeze before stepping out of the bathroom to go join Brendon and Spencer.

Thirty minutes later, Jon wasn't hurting at all, his jaw completely gone from his mind. It didn't last, however, for he felt it coming back a mere ten minutes before the show.

"Maybe Zack has something stronger. Think you can hold out and play until it kicks in?" Spencer asked, his foot already out the door.

"Yeah, just... quick, before we have to go on."

Zack apparently had a stash of hydrocodone and allowed Jon to have one under sworn oath that he was actually in enough pain to need one. Jon took it as soon as he had it in his hand and the four men took the stage just in time.

Thirty minutes in, Jon couldn't feel any pain at all, and in fact, his jaw was almost numb. The stage lights were fucking with his head and he felt higher than he had ever been before on weed. Forty-five minutes in, and Jon seriously wanted to puke. Brendon waltzed over to Jon as calmly as possible and asked if he was okay at least five or six times before the show was over, and as soon as the lights went down, Jon darted for the bathroom with the other three hot on his heels.

Brendon, Ryan, and Spencer burst into the bathroom after Jon to find him knelt before the toilet, pressing his cheek against the cool porcelain. His normally lightly-tanned face was nearly snow white, his lips almost the same color.

"Holy shit."

"Jon, are you alright?" Ryan called, running over to kneel beside the bassist. "Someone get him some water."

Brendon lightly tapped Spencer's shoulder before ducking back into the dressing room to grab a water bottle.

"I'm fine," Jon breathed, his eyes closed to the bright white of the venue bathroom, "just a little nauseous."

Ryan sighed and brushed Jon's hair from his forehead, blindly taking the water bottle from Brendon when he returned. "Hey, can you sit up and drink some of this?"

Jon's eyes opened to reveal two orbs of deep brown with identical tiny pinpricks of black in the middle. He sat up slowly, knowing his own limits, and took the proffered bottle from Ryan's hand, taking small sips.

"We need to get you to lie down somewhere," Ryan suggested softly, not taking his hand from Jon's back.

"I don't know if I can even stand."

The other three believed him; his arm shook where he was holding himself up against the edge of the toilet seat.

"I'll go get Zack," Spencer announced, turning and leaving the bathroom.

Brendon moved to sit down next to Ryan and Jon, and together they let the elder lean on them while he continued to sip on his water. When Spencer returned with Zack, the security guard carried Jon out and the other three were left to collect their belongings and follow them to the bus.

Ryan dumped his stuff off in his bunk before turning to Jon's, pushing the curtain back cautiously. "Jon?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you need anything? Anything I can do for you?" Ryan asked in almost a whisper, resisting the urge to pet Jon's soft hair.

Jon cracked a smile and blindly reached out to the slender guitarist, tugging him into the bunk with him. "Yeah, you can stop trying to be my mother."

Ryan didn't move, lying stiff against Jon's side and blinking disbelievingly.

"Chill out, Ross," Jon let out with a laugh, pulling Ryan closer. "Cuddle with me."

Relaxing, Ryan let Jon curl up against him, draping an arm across the elder man's chest. He finally gave in to the urge to pet Jon's hair, smiling candidly when Jon almost purred.

"Thanks for caring," Jon muttered sleepily a few minutes later, nose pressed against Ryan's collarbone, and Ryan could feel his heart trying to beat its way out of his chest.

Ryan waited for Jon's breathing to even out before whispering, "More than you'll ever know."


End file.
